


The Dancing Men

by memorizingthedigitsofpi



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Audience Participation, Codes & Ciphers, F/M, Gen, Puzzles, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Season 1, Season 2, code cracking, encryption, fitz's adventures, in which typos on props are relevant to plots, real shield, the sandwich appears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/pseuds/memorizingthedigitsofpi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz has just escaped Real SHIELD with Fury's Toolbox, Jemma's sandwich, and a very sketchy plan. This isn't the first time FitzSimmons have had to talk in code, and they've got a system all worked out for keeping in touch. </p><p>Decrypt the puzzles as you read your way through their history of code cracking. Then follow their adventures while Fitz is on the run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dancing Men

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has audience participation! If you'd like to try to crack the codes I'm making, please do. If you just want to sit back and enjoy the fic, I'll be posting the plain text versions in a note at the start of the next chapter. Happy code breaking :)

It was halfway through their first year at the Academy. They were sitting in another one of Vaughn's mind-numbingly dull lectures, and Fitz noticed that Jemma was doodling at the top of her notebook. This was unusual for her, but that's not what caught his attention. What caught his attention was _what_ she was doodling.  _  
_

It was strangely familiar, but it still took him a moment to place it. When he finally did, he grinned and started doing something on his laptop. A few minutes later, he showed her his screen and tapped on a small image.

Jemma blinked at him in surprise. No one had ever noticed what she was doing before. A smile bloomed across her face, and she whispered to him out of the corner of her mouth.

"Brilliant deduction, Dr. Watson!"

Fitz's face soured as he whispered back. "If either of us is Watson, it's you!"

And that's how they started to use the Dancing Men code to pass notes in class. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 codes in plain text:  
> Jemma's: boring  
> Fitz's: very

It became a challenge between the two of them. Start with the dancing men and throw in another curveball... but always give a hint. You know, just to play fair. 

Fitz was the first one to do it. 

They'd been in the library all day, and he was beyond bored. He needed to get her away from her homework, but how? Then it hit him.

He grinned to himself as he wrote up a little script on his laptop and then paused for a moment while he considered his message. 

Once it was composed, he turned his screen to Simmons and crossed his arms with a satisfied smirk. Let's see what she thought of  _that._

_ _

Jemma's eyes lit up at the sight of their code. Well, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's code, really, but she didn't think he'd mind that they'd borrowed it. Squinting her eyes and biting her lip in concentration, she started decoding, scribbling the letters on a piece of paper as she went.

Her brows came together in consternation as the letters and numbers failed to make sense. Looking up, she pinned Fitz with a glare. He smirked even harder in return. 

Turning back to the code with determination, she finished translating the letters and stared at them. 

ROT13VSLBHPENPXGUVFVAHAQRESVIRZVAHGRFVJVYYOHLLBHQVAARE

"Rot 13," she whispered to herself. That sounded like something she'd heard of before.

Fitz's smirk was still in place, but he started to look a bit worried around his eyes. 

Jemma suddenly smiled and set to work again. 

Fitz's smirk faded fast and he looked hurriedly at his watch. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The code in the last chapter was:
> 
> ROT13 If you crack this in under five minutes I will buy you dinner
> 
> ROT13 is a cipher in which you rotate the alphabet by 13 letters, so A becomes N, B becomes O etc. So Fitz gave her ROT13 in their usual code and the rest was rotated alphabet.

"C'mon, be a pal, Simmons! Let me borrow your notes." Fitz begged. "Just this once!"

"No, Fitz," she dismissed him. "You're the one who decided a football match was more important than class. You can suffer the consequences."

"But--"

"No."

"Alright, fine," he sighed. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out two bottles of Irn Bru and a packet of crisps and placed them on the table. "At least tell me the lab assignment so that I can get that started." He passed her a drink and opened the crisps, offering her some before he grabbed a handful.

Opening her bottle with a slightly condescending smile, she tilted her notebook just enough for him to see the relevant page numbers. She was rather pleased when he went straight to work instead of continuing to prod her. Most of their classmates wouldn't have given up so easily, but he knew that when she said no she meant it. She appreciated that.

After a bit more consideration, she sat down with pencil and paper and started to figure things out. 

"Can I borrow your laptop a minute?" she asked. 

Fitz nodded and crunched another crisp, not looking up from his lab manual. 

She typed for a moment and then returned it to him, grabbing a crisp and picking up a pen to start her own homework.

When Fitz finally looked up a moment later, he was greeted by a message that made him smile.

"Oh really?" he asked, giving his lab partner a sidelong glance.

"Mmhmm," she agreed, not looking up from her notes.

Pulling his laptop towards him, he quickly ran the characters through the decoding script he'd written and was presented with something he wasn't expecting. Numbers.

He turned to Simmons again, frowning and quirking his lip. What was this about?

He tried a simple alphabet code first. With the apostrophe in there, it was likely that the 7 was either an S or a T. When that only got him gibberish, he sighed and grumbled under his breath. 

Simmons pursed her lips and tried not to laugh. Then she tapped her chemistry textbook and raised a meaningful eyebrow. 

Fitz squinted at her for a moment and then hesitantly started again.

"5, 3, 9..." he whispered. "B, Li, F?" That didn't make sense. "B, Y?" That could work. "I, F?" Hmm. That was possible too. At least he was getting real words out of it now. 

Buckling down, he worked his way through the different possibilities for each set of numbers. If it didn't look like a word, he dismissed it immediately and moved on to the next possible combination of letters from numbers. 

"Moy?" he asked at one point. "Really?"

She shrugged. "Closest I could get under the circumstances." 

"I mean, I get the apostrophe thing and all but...?"

"Oh, be quiet and crack the code already."

Finally, he put his pencil down and pushed his paper over to her.

"Hand them over," he said, a proud grin stamped on his face.

She laughed and slid them over to him. "Just this once," she warned.

"Just this once," he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additional hint: go [here](http://memorizingthedigitsofpi.tumblr.com/post/116044727047/53-9-39-8-92-20-7-8-15-7-90-53-16-39-8-92) to see where the letter breaks are in the words


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The numbers were atomic numbers from the periodic table. When you replace the numbers with each element's atomic symbol, it reads:  
> IF YOU CaN OP'N ThIS, YOU, CaN USe MoY CHeMnOTes
> 
> And the "moy" is because you can't make the word "my" with atomic symbols ;) You also can't make "read" or "get" or "have". It's not an ideal code :P

Dr. Hall was the one who pointed out the practical aspects of their cipher hobby. He was looking over some of Fitz's calculations when he saw the little doodled men dancing their way along the margin of his notepad.

"You'll want something more secure than that," Dr. Hall observed.

"Sir?" Fitz asked, unsure why a calculation on airspeed velocity would need any kind of security.

"Oh, the dancing men are fine while you two are just passing notes," Franklin admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But you won't be at the Academy forever."

There was something ominous about his tone that gave Fitz a distinctly uncomfortable feeling between his shoulder blades. "Well, yeah," he shrugged. "But once we're at Sci-Ops we'll have access to the best encryption software at SHIELD's disposal." It would be much better than anything they could come up with on their own.

Dr. Hall frowned and looked at his shoes. "There might come a time," he said quietly, "When you're working on something you don't necessarily want SHIELD to have access to."

Fitz was getting properly uncomfortable now. "What do you mean?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

Franklin look at him steadily for a moment, obviously considering his answer. Finally, he face broke out in a smile and the tension lifted from his shoulders. "You've got some million-dollar ideas, Fitz," he said with a chuckle. "You might want to save one or two for yourself. Retire when you're still young enough to enjoy it." With a pat on the younger man's back, he returned to his desk.

Fitz watched his instructor for several minutes after that. He had a feeling that Dr. Hall wasn't _really_ concerned about intellectual property rights, and that raised all sorts of questions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new code next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys, no code again... but google keyed caesar and make yourself a key. That's step one in the next code.

"He really said that?" Jemma asked, taking a sip of her too-hot tea and wincing.

"Yeah," Fitz confirmed, nodding. "And it was really weird, yeah, because he got all... _ominous_ ," he waggled his fingers to illustrate the point. "And then he just... slapped me on the back like nothing happened!" Fitz blew on his own tea and frowned.

" _That_ is _very_ odd," Jemma observed.

"Definitely."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, Jemma staring out the window and warming her hands around her mug and Fitz eating his way through half a tin of biscuits and ending up with crumbs all down his jumper.

Finally, Jemma spoke, "Whatever we do, it has to be pencil and paper based," she mused.

"Right," Fitz agreed slowly, "Because we don't know what technology we'll have access to when we need to use it."

"Or whether or not the technology we _do_ have will be compromised," Jemma nodded.

Fitz looked distinctly unhappy about that idea. "I _really_ don't like this conversation," he said emphatically, getting up in search of more biscuits. 

"Neither do I," Jemma shrugged, "But it's always best to be prepared."

Fitz nodded, still looking rather unhappy. He popped one biscuit in his mouth and brought the rest over to sit on the table between them. He chewed in thought for several minutes before picking up his mug and drinking the cold dregs of his tea. Making a face at the cold, bitter taste, he put his mug down with a bit of a clang and looked over at Simmons with determination in his eyes.

"Right," he said with conviction. "How do we start?"

Jemma breathed out a large sigh. "I haven't the foggiest," she admitted.

"I guess we can always do what we _have_ been doing," Fitz suggested.

"Start with a simple cipher and build on it?" Jemma asked, liking the idea.

"Yeah," Fitz nodded. "I mean, if we start with something simple, like a Caesarian shift..."

"Better to do a keyed Caesar," Jemma interrupted. "Slightly more complex."

"Right, yeah," he was getting excited now. "So we start with a keyed Caesar _,_ and we use a key that only  _we_ know..."

"Something that's only significant to us, like..." she paused as she tried to think of something, glancing around herself for inspiration.

"Like..." Fitz started looking around the room for something they could use.

Both of them ended up staring at the biscuits at the same time. "Peek Freans," they said together.


	6. Chapter 6

Jemma squinted at their message, scrunching her nose in distaste. "It's not exactly subtle is it?" she asked.

Fitz nodded in agreement. "Definitely in code," he sighed. "That's not going to fool anyone for long at all."

"We need to transform it somehow so that it looks..." Jemma opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to think of the word she was searching for.

"Harmless?" Fitz suggested.

"Inconsequential," she nodded.

"White noise."

"It needs to blend in."

They looked at each other helplessly, neither one having any idea how to go about it.

Finally, Fitz ran a hand over the back of his neck and shrugged. "Add a transformation?"

"Move away from letters?"

"But not atomic symbols."

"Maybe numbers?"

"But not an A=1 system because that's too easy to crack, too."

Jemma grabbed the back of her neck with both hands and groaned. "I swear, Fitz, if you say _but_ one more time...!" she threatened.

He held up his hands in self-defense. "I'm just saying!" he protested. "Bu-- _However_ , I do like your numbers idea."

Somewhat mollified, she brought her hands back down again to fiddle with the message paper. "What do you suggest, then? If not A=1 et cetera?"

"Well," he said after a moment. "I mean, who says A needs to be 1, right?"

She nodded and waited for him to continue.

"I mean, we just created a key, so why not use that as the number key as well?"

Jemma frowned and picked up the pencil. "So you mean, in this case, P=1?" She wrote it down.

"Right," Fitz said, getting excited. "And E=2, K=3..."

She continued until she had the entire alphabet coded and then looked at their message. She pinned Fitz with a rather eloquent look. "We're definitely going to need to write shorter messages in the future."

Fitz grinned and got up to make another pot of tea. "I'll keep that in mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright code-crackers! Use your key from the last chapter and see if you can figure out my message :)
> 
> Since doing the letter/number transformation would end up with a different form of the same message, I'll probably do a time jump next chapter. Feel free to try the transformation, though, just to see what it looks like. Please note: only recommended if you're bored ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plain text of the last cipher reads:  
> "The entropy of a system approaches a constant value as the temperature approaches zero."
> 
> You can decrypt it by using the key PEKFRANSBCDGHIJLMOQTUVWXYZ in place of the usual alphabet. That means that in the code A is represented by P, B is represented by E, etc.

"I think I've got it, this time!" Fitz announced, bursting into Simmons' lab at Sci-Ops.

"The proper weight ratio to balance the load between two dwarfs?" Simmons asked, excitement plain on her face.

"Nah," Fitz waved her off as if that weren't something he'd been working on for three weeks straight. "The code!" he stage-whispered, looking around. Considering how late it was on a Friday night, he needn't have bothered, but when you were acting like James Bond crossed with Alan Turing you didn't leave anything to chance.

Simmons sagged back down onto her stool. "Oh," she said, somewhat subdued. "Well, that's good too." Honestly, she'd almost forgotten their code in the last six months. They'd managed to get all the way to binary before giving it up as a lost cause. How could you hide that many numbers in any message and have it not seem strange? It had been rather demoralizing for them both to realize they still didn't have a way to hide the code in plain sight.

"Good?" Fitz asked, eyes widening with his grin. "It's bloody _fantastic_ is what it is!" He thrust his tablet directly under her nose to show her what he'd accomplished.

Frowning and nearly going cross-eyed trying to look at the screen, Jemma pulled her head back in order to better focus on what was in front of her.

Jemma blinked and then refocused on Fitz. "I don't..." She took a breath and blew it out before trying again. "Explain to me what's so brilliant please?"

"Well," Fitz began, preening slightly as he warmed to the topic. "You remember how we ran into a wall with the binary thing?"

"Vividly," she replied with some bitterness. She hated getting stuck on a problem.

Fitz grinned with pride. "Today, I had a breakthrough," he paused, waiting for her acknowledgement.

"And are you going to share it with me?" she asked, losing her patience. "Or did you want me to guess?"

He rolled his eyes but didn't lose his cheerful expression. "Hex!" he said, triumphantly.

"Hex?" Simmons asked, brow furrowing as she considered. "Hexidecimal?" she repeated, staring at the screen. Suddenly her confusion lifted and she stared at Fitz in wonder. "Fitz!" she shouted. "Hexidecimal!" She clapped her hands together, practically jumping up and down in her excitement.

"Told you it was brilliant!" he congratulated himself.

Simmons, meanwhile, had moved on to the next problem. "Alright, so you've changed your code into hex and used the hex to change the text colours on the website," she summarized. "So far, so good."

Fitz nodded.

"But," she asked. "How do I get from the colours back to your code?"

Fitz right-clicked on the web site and selected View Page Source from the drop down menu that appeared. "Like this," he pointed.

"And so every colour you've defined..." Simmons started.

"...Is actually three two-digit numbers strung together to form a hex colour value," Fitz finished.

"So all I have to do," she continued, reaching for a pencil. "Is write down the two-digit numbers and translate them from hex back to ascii." She started the process with a 45 and 63 on her notepad before pausing. "Why does it say 'Zombie Apocalypse' at the top of the page?" she asked, looking at Fitz out of the corner of her eye.

He looked briefly uncomfortable before recovering admirably. "I couldn't remember which biscuits we'd been using before, so I just chose a new key," he explained. "But that can be part of the protocol."

"Change the key, and put it in a comment," Jemma nodded. "Although it's sort of useless to use a key if we have it in plain text for anyone to come across."

Fitz raised an eyebrow at that one. "Anyone who happens to come across this page, decide that they want to look at the source for some reason, believe that the colours were chosen as part of a code and that the comment is the key to a Caesarian cipher, you mean?" he asked, just to clarify.

"Exactly," Simmons nodded, continuing to write down the numbers to be decoded. "Best to just hint at it instead of stating it plainly. Maybe ask a security question that only _we_ could answer?"

He shook his head at his best friend and partner. Sometimes, she was completely unreasonable. "Sure," he said. You work on the code and I'll start compiling a list of questions."

Not long after that, Fitz received a smack in the back of the head for his troubles.

"Idiot," Simmons shook her head fondly.

"Might want to try again," he grinned at her. "I think you deciphered it wrong."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> website url inspired by [Countermeasures](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3343181/chapters/7313081) by Madalayna
> 
> Zombie Apocalypse was originally going to be Ice Machine Apocalypse (from notapepper's [A Few Tricks Up My Sleeve](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3581184/chapters/7895118%22), but I couldn't think of a reason for Fitz to choose that phrase. I figured zombies are a more common apocalypse to reference :)
> 
> If you're trying to crack the code and the html text is too small, [click here](http://40.media.tumblr.com/faa6a0d9c4577ef4b6b4475fa6069c36/tumblr_nmvp564HBC1te2h9lo1_1280.png) for a larger version of the image.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hex code reads: 45 63 71 78 20 63 6e 20 7a 75 69 6e 67 64 69  
> Translated into ascii, that is: Ecqx cn zuingdi  
> And do the same keyed Caesar process as last time, but with the new key (zombie apocalypse) and the plain text of that code was:
> 
> Fitz is awesome

"I can't believe they shut it down!" Fitz raged, kicking the island in Simmons' kitchen and then hopping on his other foot as he swore in pain. "God _damnit_!"

Jemma sighed as she watched him. You'd think he'd have learned by now not to do that, but apparently he was a genius in engineering who consistently forgot that his foot was not stronger than stainless steel. Slipping off her stool, she reached into her freezer for the ice. "You shouldn't have made it look like a business," she explained, twisting the tray to pop out a few cubes. "You know SHIELD has rules against agents participating in private enterprise." She placed the cubes in a tea towel and handed it to him.

Fitz grumbled as he sat down on her vacated stool and pressed the cool material against his sock foot. "For six months, they don't care about it, and _now_ suddenly it has to come down?" His eyes closed and he smiled slightly as the ice leeched away some of the pain. After a moment, he cracked one eyelid. "That just seems fishy is all."

Since she was up, Jemma filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil. She was worrying her bottom lip and wrinkling her brows in the way that let Fitz know she was thinking about something. He continued to ice his foot as he watched her, not wanting to interrupt her process until he saw her eyes widen in understanding.

"Fitz," she said quietly, one hand held up to keep him quiet as she finished working her way through it. "What if they figured it out?" she whispered, and it was so quiet he had to lean forward to hear it.

"What?"

"What if they figured it out, Fitz?" Jemma asked louder this time, her blood running slightly colder through her veins. " _What if they figured out what the site was for?"_ They were going to be in so much trouble. They could be charged with treason. They could be _fired_.

Fitz frowned at her and scoffed. "C'mon, Simmons," he waved her concerns  away with his free hand. "There's _no way_ anyone could figure that out!" He sat a bit straighter on the stool and tilted his head at her like she was crazy. " _You_ couldn't figure it out until I explained it." He was still pretty proud of it, truth be told, and the idea that SHIELD had figured it out in only half a year was completely ludicrous.

Jemma crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her own head in a way that clearly indicated she didn't appreciate his bringing that up. "Yes, well..." she floundered for a moment before recovering. "But when you were changing the text colours and the key, you never really changed the message on the page," she pointed out rather triumphantly. "All you did was rearrange things or add in more filler. They must have seen right through that!"

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault," Fitz's brows rose with his voice. " _I'm_ the one who can't keep a secret?" he laughed mockingly.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Jemma's voice rose right back and her arms moved from across her chest to rest on her hips.

"Who did you tell?" Fitz asked accusingly.

" _Me?!_ "She pointed to herself derisively before pointing her finger at him. "I think you mean _you_ , Mr. Give-Me-One-Scotch-And-I'll-Reveal-All-Of-SHIELD's-Secrets!"

His mouth opened and shut several times but the only noise that came out was a, "Hah!" of pure insult. He stomped over to the door, whimpering each time his injured foot hit the hardwood, and shoved his shoes on hastily. At the door, he turned around and jabbed a finger back at her forcefully. "It's **two** scotches, and you know it!" he shrieked, yanking the door almost off its hinges. "And I didn't say _anything_!" He stamped out the door, slamming it behind him.

Jemma watched him go, still seething. She jumped as the kettle started whistling, surprising her out of her anger. Removing it from the element, she sighed and set her mouth in a determined line. He wouldn't have got far on that foot.

Fitz looked up as her door opened. He was sitting in the stairwell with his shoes off feeling like an idiot. In his haste, he'd put them on the wrong feet.

Jemma offered him an apologetic smile. "Tea?" she asked, hesitantly.

He grinned apologetically back. "Yeah, alright," he agreed, picking up his shoes and following her back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that last one is my favourite code and I don't think I can top it, but I have to move things on towards canon, so it had to be got rid of
> 
> new code next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Jemma smiled in anticipation as she entered the break room just after two o'clock. It had been a ridiculous morning. She hadn't even been able to go to the bathroom, let alone find time to take a break. But now,  _now_ she was going to reward herself with the lunch she'd packed. Her stomach growled and she practically salivated as she opened the refrigerator to take out her sandwich. Leftover roast pork with pickled cucumbers and garlic mayo on a Portuguese roll. She'd been craving it all day as her reward for a morning of hard work. 

Except when she opened the fridge, it wasn't there. In its place was a scrap of paper with Fitz's messy scrawl on it.

"I  _owe_ you?" she said between clenched teeth. "I  **owe** you?!" Her voice was getting louder now as she stalked out of the break room and through the corridors of labs. Finally, she slammed open the door to Fitz's engineering bay. Her eyes blazed and pointed an accusing finger at him. " _ **You owe** **me**?_ " she shouted. 

Fitz jumped at the sound of the door banging open and slid his way around to the other side of his lab bench when Simmons yelled. "Now Jemma," he started in a soothing voice, hands raised in a gesture meant to calm her.

Of course, it did the opposite. "Don't ' _Now Jemma_ ' me," she growled, making a beeline for him as she entered the room. "You stole my lunch!"

Fitz moved surrepticiously away from her, endeavoring to keep the table between them at all times. "I may have  _borrowed_ ," he started.

"Borrowed!" she barked, moving closer.

"I left a note," he continued lamely, backing away again.

"And I'm supposed to  _eat_ that, am I?" She placed both her hands on the table and leaned across it like she'd jump the surface to tackle him.

"Look," he said, attempting to placate her. "How about I go to the cafeteria? Get you something to eat?" He tried a smile to see how that would work.

"Does the cafeteria have sandwiches with  _home made_ roast pork and pickled cucumbers?" Jemma asked pointedly. "On rolls from my favourite bakery?" She crossed her arms in front of her. 

Fitz gulped. "Um, no," he admitted. His eyes darted towards the door, but they'd circled back around the lab bench and she now stood between him and the exit.

"Then maybe suggest  _something else_ ," she said, and her eyes promised him pain if he failed to deliver.

"I could, um," he cast about for a suitable option. "Take you  _out_ for lunch?" he tried.

" _Where_?" she asked, her face still clearly expressing how grim his future could be if he made a mistake.

"Anywhere you like?" he asked, his own face showing how scared he was of her at that moment and how willing he was to actually spend some actual money if only she wouldn't kill him.

She nodded in agreement, mentally mapping out which restaurants were close but also  _very_ expensive. "You're driving," she said and walked out of the room.

Fitz grabbed his bag from its hook on the wall and followed her out, breathing out a sigh of relief that he'd managed to get away with it. It had been a  _really_ good sandwich.

...................

The next day, Fitz went to get his own lunch from the fridge and found a neatly typed square of letters on top of it.

He frowned, unsure of what it could mean but pretty sure who had left it. He turned to Jemma who was already sitting at one of the small tables eating her own lunch and raised an eyebrow in question. 

"Odd numbers first," she said, biting sharply into a carrot stick. She had decided to bring a vegetarian lunch today in order to fend off Fitz's tendency to steal things. 

"What?" he asked, not seeing any numbers at all on the paper. 

Jemma rolled her eyes. Honestly, they'd talked about transposition any number of times. "The columns," she said impatiently. "Do the odd numbered ones first."

He frowned again for a moment before fishing a pen out of his shirt pocket. Looking up at her as he wrote the first few letters, he began, "THENEX."

Simmons nodded and returned to her lunch.

Fitz worked busily for a few moments and then suddenly turned green. He swallowed and nodded. "Understood."

"Good."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous code was done as a columnar transposition. The message is written as a block across how ever many columns you choose to use, and once it is finished, you move the columns around. Simmons' hint to start with the odd numbered columns is telling Fitz how to rearrange them. So, number the columns 1 through 7 and then write down column one first, then column 3, then 5, 7, 2, 4, 6. when you do this, the message appears:  
> THENEXT  
> TIMEYOU  
> EATMYLU  
> NCHIMRE  
> PLACING  
> YOURSWI  
> THADISS  
> ECTION
> 
> or "The next time you eat my lunch, I'm replacing yours with a dissection."

Fitz was getting increasingly irritated with their attempts at codes. Nothing seemed to work out how they wanted it to, and nothing was secure as it would have to be in the event of whatever disaster Dr. Hall had so ominously predicted back at the Academy. They needed fast, safe, secure and easy enough to do that they wouldn't need a computer's help. It was impossible.

Jemma, for her part, was so preoccupied with her work projects that the codes had become an enjoyable puzzle she gave herself as a treat for a hard job done well. She'd taken to doing the cryptic crossword in the newspaper and had even invested in Simon Singh's Code Book to read up on some more history. Fitz enjoyed the hobby aspect of it, too, but he was so focused on the necessity of having their own that he sometimes forgot to have fun with it. 

They had just sat down to enjoy the new BBC series, Sherlock, when Fitz got a call about an emergency back at the lab. Apparently, the Rising Tide had attempted to hack into his files and now he had to go in and answer some awkward questions to reassure their senior agents that he wasn't some sort of mole. 

He was confident that they'd see sense in fairly short order, but that wasn't why he'd left in such a hurry to clear his name. The more worrying aspect of this impromptu investigation was that they might discover what he'd been using lab resources for in his free time. Was it really misappropriation if the things he learned from his battle bot were later applied to his projects at work?

Jemma sighed at the TV screen. The pilot had been  _so good_ , and they'd  _just_ started The Blind Banker. She bit her thumb nail for a moment before forcing her hand down. She could always watch it now and then  _pretend_ she hadn't seen it, couldn't she? She bit her lip and considered her options. 

"Screw it," she muttered to herself, reaching for the remote. She may not be able to lie to save her life, but she had a better poker face than Fitz gave her credit for.

When Fitz got home just after midnight, he found Jemma asleep on his sofa and one of his comic books on his coffee table with a sticky note on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who do not have this comic book (I'm assuming most of you), you can go [here](http://hostingmyrandompictureson.tumblr.com/post/117112880453) (warning: do not look at the blog proper or you will get massive spoilers for my fics)
> 
> Also, [this](http://memorizingthedigitsofpi.tumblr.com/post/116920196772/acedamian-queerionthewitch-i-like-crossovers) is my total headcanon on DC/Marvel comics existing in each others' universes :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, I introduced a book code. This is actually pretty much the most secure code you can do with pencil and paper, as long as you keep the book (and its edition etc) secret. 
> 
> The key for the sticky note is:   
> PG = page  
> P = panel  
> B = bubble  
> W = word
> 
> If you visit the pages of the comic that I linked at the end of the chapter, you can search through for the relevant information and read the message. "Why not use the tools you have?"
> 
> (oh, and Simmons was inspired by the ep of Sherlock she watched without Fitz) ;)

"You and Fitz, huh?" Skye asked, throwing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth.

"What about us?" Jemma asked as she opened the refrigerator and took out the ingredients for a salad. "Is that really all you're going to eat?" she wrinkled her nose in disapproval.

"Popcorn is totally a vegetable," Skye reasoned. "And butter is a dairy product," she continued. "I'm getting vitamins  _and_ minerals, here!" When Simmons' nose wrinkle failed to dissipate, she widened her eyes to almost Disney proportions in an attempt to look innocent.

It failed miserably.

"At least let me make you a sandwich," Jemma offered, her hands itching to take the large bowl away from Skye. "We've got some lovely ciabatta buns..."

Skye smiled broadly. "Well, if you _insist_ ," she gave in quickly.

Jemma squinted suspiciously but returned to the fridge for more ingredients anyway. "Now, what did you want to know about Fitz and me?"

"Don't you mean 'Fitz and _I_ '?" Skye asked in a falsely patronizing voice. Catching Jemma's raised eyebrow and unamused look, she shrugged and raised her eyebrows awkwardly. "Guess not," she breathed under her breath. " _Anyway_ , how come you two can be a thing?" she reached out for more popcorn and got her hand slapped for her troubles.

Jemma frowned and chuckled slightly. "What do you mean, a _thing_?" she asked, busying herself with chopping vegetables.

Skye rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, come _on_!" she scoffed, throwing a piece of popcorn at Simmons. "You're not fooling _anyone_ ," she explained. "Did Coulson get you guys, like, ' _special permission_ ' to bang or something?" she asked, finger quoting.

Jemma gasped with a horrified expression. "I _beg_ your _pardon_ ," she said, and her tone implied the F-bomb that she would never drop on the BUS. "We are _just friends_ , thank you _very_ much!" she said, her whole body radiating umbrage as she emphasized her words with the knife she was holding.

Skye threw her hands up in defense. "Fine!" she agreed, although her expression said 'You're so full of shit' instead.

" _Banging_ ," Jemma muttered under her breath as she returned to chopping. "As if we would _ever_..."

"I'm just _saying_ ," Skye continued, even though the danger had clearly not passed. "The way you two are, like, _psychically linked_..."

"We've been friends and colleagues for _years_ , of course we each know how the other thinks."

"You have, like, _zero_ personal space with each other," Skye continued. "That only happens if you've been naked and sweaty in the same room at the same time."

Jemma looked to the side for a moment, clearly remembering something. "Well, there _was_ that weekend we had to spend in decontamination..." she started. Waving it off, she dismissed that idea, too. "But we were only naked together for the duration of the initial showering. After that, we were given jumpsuits, so that hardly counts."

Skye's jaw dropped as she took that all in. "Okay, _first of all?_ You are _so_ telling me that story." She shook her head in disbelief. "Second of all," she returned to their current discussion, "What about those love notes you two are passing all the time?"

"Love--?" Jemma's face showed complete confusion for a moment before it cleared up. " _Oh_ , you mean the--" she stopped abruptly and looked guilty. Her eyes darted around the room as she cleared her throat, trying to buy time to think of a believable excuse. Coming up empty, she nodded in a large arc. " _Yes_ ," she said, and it was clear that acting was not something she excelled at. "Our love notes," she continued woodenly. "You have found us out," she attempted to look worried but ended up looking like she had to go to the bathroom.

Skye stared at her with a pained expression. "Wow," she finally said. "That was a _train wreck_." Getting up from her stool, she went over the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers. "But since you _clearly_ don't want to tell me what those notes actually are," she handed one to Simmons, "You'll just have to tell me about that time you saw Fitz naked instead."

Fitz walked in just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. His entire face and neck blushed a bright red and his expression was the definition of panic. "Simmons!" he shouted. "You promised!"

Jemma winced guiltily. "Sorry?" she asked, holding out Skye's sandwich as a peace offering.


	12. Chapter 12

Fitz smiled goofily and bit his lower lip. Reaching up, he pressed a hand to his cheek where he could still feel the soft press of her lips. It was slightly sticky with her lipstick and warm with his blush. He sighed happily. She was  _so pretty._

He looked around his room for a pen and paper and found an old notebook and a marker. There were some things he had to say to Simmons that he couldn't say to her face. Not without losing his courage, at least.

Of course, a note of this kind of  _personal_ nature shouldn't be left in plain text. But he could't find his copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, so he had to make due without a book code this time. Good old pencil... erm, marker and paper would have to do. Working quickly, he created his 5x5 alphabet grid to start the Bifid cipher. He'd stick with mapping the J to an I because that was traditional, and he didn't want to make this difficult for  _Jemma_ , just for anyone else who might try to read it.

He paused to decide what exactly he wanted to put into his message. This was a sensitive topic, and he didn't want to upset her. Still, if he didn't say  _anything_ that would be lying in a way. He puffed up his cheeks and then blew out his breath as he considered his words. 

After a few minutes, he nodded to himself. Sticking his tongue between his teeth in concentration, he wrote out the plain text and carefully tracked the row and column for each letter. Now was not the time to make a mistake! With just as much care, he wrote out all of the numbers from the rows and then all of the numbers from the columns and translated it all back into letters again. After double- and triple-checking to be  _sure_ there were no mistakes, he carefully wrote out his message in all caps. He had horrid writing, and he wanted to be sure Simmons could  _read_ the damned thing.

He nodded to himself in satisfaction and got up to deliver his note. Simmons would be easy enough to find. She was locked up in the infirmary with Skye, after all.

Grinning goofily again, he reached up to touch his cheek one more time. Lorelai was  _so pretty_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speaking of horrid writing, the last word on the second line starts with PW not PN. oops.


End file.
